I Have Nothing To Write Poem by Mohammad Younus

I have nothing to write,
My soul exposed to the sun,
My heart, pure and beautiful,
My mind, clear and healthy.

Shall I speak the truth?
I pretend to be a poet,
But I am not one.

Left alone on the bed,
After cataract surgery,
The days of solitude
Seemed like sunset.

Some lines I wrote
With my index finger
On the screen,
Unaware they were poetry.

But Ms. Shah,
An English lecturer,
Read my first words on the wall,
And commented on my post:
'Koul Sahib,
You are writing poetry.'

I could not believe my eyes.
Is this poetry I am writing?
Astonished, ashamed—
But then, I began.

I tested their worth,
Published them on Poemhunter,
And they were accepted.
A signal,
Like a whisper from the divine:
'Go ahead.'

I felt a sense of wonder—
as if the universe nodded,
acknowledging the quiet stirring
that had begun within me.

Since then, it has become
My passion to write—
Mystical poems, mainly.
Apart from this late-age accident,
I have nothing more to tell you.

And now, I write not for praise,
But to touch the eternal pulse,
To offer my soul's quiet breath
To the vast, unspoken mystery.

For in these humble words, I find
A glimpse of truth—forever mine.

MyKoul